


Last Night on Earth

by icebucky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandon All Hope, Feels, Sorry again, slight Dean/Jo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icebucky/pseuds/icebucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The views of the Winchesters, the Harvelles, Bobby, and Cas on what they thought was their last night on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Sam

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the S5 episode "Abandon All Hope". Feels. Sorry. Dean/Jo (I ship it), but very canon. Hope you like it!

"Last night on Earth," Dean had said jokingly to Jo in the kitchen, trying to get her to sleep with him. He'd been completely indifferent to the gravity of his statement, but the words weighed on Sam's mind as he sat moodily on the couch.

The beer on his knee was dripping its condensation through his jeans; he stared through its amber glass as though it would make this hell any better.

There was laughter floating through the house, the clinking of glasses and the smell of alcohol weaving hazily around him. Sam glanced around, seeing Dean at the fridge, Ellen and Jo at the table, wonderingly laughing as Cas threw back shot after shot, completely unaffected. On his other side, Bobby was poring over dusty old texts, trying to determing if they were going to die painfully, or if it was more likely to be quick. Confined to a wheelchair, Bobby wasn't coming with them in the morning - Sam had rarely seen him so livid.

Now, though, he was devoting his evening to trying to save their asses.  _It must suck,_ Sam thought,  _to be Bobby._   _Hardly more than it sucks to be us, but..._

He stood. There was a blotch of water left from his bottle on his leg; Sam took a final swig and tossed his now-empty bottle in the trash. "Hey," he said to Dean, his voice coming out a lot more quietly than he was expecting.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean replied, standing by the table and watching Cas drink. There was a smile on Dean's face that Sam hadn't seen for a long time. He couldn't bring himself to stop Dean from calling him "Sammy" anymore. It didn't matter. Not anymore.

He didn't speak. The girls were laughing, Cas' confused expression bringing a smile to Sam's face, too. He took another beer from the fridge, and looked around at his family. They weren't blood, except for he and Dean, but he'd never known this depth with any other people.

Bobby called them all over in front of an old camera. As he walked over, his brother slightly in front of him, this fleeting moment twisted something in him.  _Last night on Earth_ , Sam thought, putting his arms arounf Cas and Dean, Ellen right in front of him.

It wasn't so bad, he decided. If it _was_ his last night on Earth, Sam Winchester was glad that it was a damn good one.


	2. Chapter Two: Ellen

"Last night on Earth," she heard Dean begin to her daughter. No. She'd be damned if  _Dean Winchester_ pulled something like this. Not tonight.

Ellen was relieved to hear Jo softly turn Dean away, followed by the sound of him scoffing good-naturedly and getting a beer as she wove her way back to her seat at the table.

Castiel, the angel, was sitting across from them, staring at the bottle of whiskey and the shot glasses lined neatly in front of him. "Come on, Cas," Jo said as she slid into the seat next to her mother. "Let's see what you can do." Leaning forward, Jo set all of the glasses right-side up and filled every one of them.

"Do angels even drink, Cas?" Jo asked brightly, shoving the glasses towards him.

"Well, we are capable of consuming vast quantities of alcohol when desired, but the reasoning behind doing so is hardly logica-"

"Cas, honey, stop talking," Ellen smiled, unknowingly employing a motherly tone with Cas - she'd considered him part of the family as soon as she'd seen how he was with Sam and Dean. "Bottoms up," she added, and he began tossing the shots into his mouth like they were nothing stronger than water.

Jo was laughing, Ellen noticed, for the first time in a long time. She stared at Cas like she'd never seen anything quite like him, and, Ellen supposed, she hadn't. It was good to see this happiness on her face. Ellen knew that it was mostly because of the imminent death of tomorrow, but for a second, it was as if they'd jumped back several years to a time when things were so much better.

Sam was standing and coming over to watch the spectacle, Dean was hovering around the kitchen - she couls almost hear the grin on his face as he muttered, "Son of a  _bitch_ , Cas."

Castiel finished his drinks and set them all down on the table, looking up and saying, "I think I'm starting to feel something."

"Really," Ellen said, nodding and laughing. Cas looked more confused than ever, but they all looked around as Bobby called them into the other room.

He had a dated camera, leaning slightly on its dilapidated tripod, set up facing the corner with the window and the couch. Complaining loudly, but still complying, everyone arranged themselves in a joke of a family photo. Ellen surprised even herself when she felt an overwhelming sense of safety from the three boys staning behind her, her daughter on the end of them (just this once, Dean's arm draped chastely over her shoulders), Jo's hand resting on Bobby's shoulders.

So they were small. And broken. And lost in a world that was too big for so few of them to take on. But still, it could be worse. They had each other. And, Ellen thought, for the last night on Earth, spending it with a family like this on was fine by her.


	3. Chapter Three: Bobby

The books were swimming before his eyes. The hell with research. He wanted to shove them aside, get a beer, and watch some sappy movie before crashing.

Of course, that wasn't possible.

Bobby glanced up. Sam was slouched on the couch, looking slightly drunk, a beer bottle resting on one of his long, outstretched legs. Just looking over the boy, Bobby thought that he and his brother were some of the biggest idjits he'd ever seen.

It made him sad in a way he didn't want to be. Something inside Sam seemed to be crumpled, nearly broken, but he still pushed through. Damn it. The kid was twenty-seven. He shouldn't be dealing with this hell. He should be in California, being a freakin' lawyer and banging his girlfriend every night. This life sucked for the young ones even more than it sucked for Bobby. It sucked for the Winchesters and Jo. He wanted something more for them, but he knew that he's never be able to do anything about it. They'd always get pulled back in.

Bobby told himself to shut up. There was no use getting stuck in another moody hole when there were things to do.

Sam stood and migrated slowly, precariously, to the kitchen, where he grabbed a new beer and stood comfortably next to his brother. Dean deserved better, too, but this was the life he'd chosen. He'd never wanted to escape in the same way that Sam did, but it was still painful to watch him suffering.

This. Was. Hell.

Bobby blinked, hard. No. He needed to stop this. This trap that he laid for himself, this web of feelings that he got stuck in. And it wasn't like he could ever talk to anyone about this, much less Sam or Dean; the Winchesters were born allergic to feelings, and a tried-and-true family strategy was to never talk about feelings, feelings are bad.

Still…

Whatever. He knew that if there wasn’t something for him to hold onto for the future, that if this really was their last night on Earth, he needed something to keep all of them close to him.

So he wheeled out from behind his desk and grabbed his old tripod camera from the corner. No one noticed him setting it up in the corner, they were all marveling at Castiel's ability to drink. A small smile tugged at the corner of Bobby's mouth, but as soon as the camera was set up, he drew them away from the table.

"When you idjits are done," he called, "get over here."

"Aw, Bobby, no," Dean complained, slouching over to the corner and elbowing Sam immaturely in the stomach. "Really?"

"Yes, really, you jerk," Sam replied, somewhat good-naturedly, a bitch face still twisting his features. "Come on, hurry up."

Grumbling slightly, everyone arranged themselves into a family photo pose, and Bobby set the timer as he wheeled in.

No one smiled, no one even looked serious. They all looked awkward, but as soon as the old Polaroid spit out the photo of them, the young ones crowded around Bobby like it was their senior pictures.

He didn’t know why he did it, he just felt like he should. If they died, Bobby didn’t know that he could go on without them, but he knew that he would have to.

Bobby tossed the picture on his desk after shaking everyone off. Despite all of their problems, their arguments, their disagreements, they were a family, one that didn’t end with blood. And if this had to be their last night on Earth, and if Bobby had to go on without them, he was glad that they could spend these few hours together.


End file.
